


snippets of you and i

by tasteslikeciel



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: De-aged Playmaker, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Madoka Magica AU, Sick Fic, TPN AU, Tickling, will update tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-02-15 15:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18672451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tasteslikeciel/pseuds/tasteslikeciel
Summary: A collection of ask prompts from Tumblr with various pairings both romantic and platonic in nature.





	1. Ryoken/Yusaku: french fries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: “Don’t be an asshole. Asshole.” and “Sharing is caring. Now give me your fries.”
> 
> Ryoken wants Revolver and Playmaker to form a tag team against the Ignis. Yusaku thinks he's being stupid, but isn't opposed to being bribed. Ai finds the whole thing amusing.

“I don’t think I understand.” Yusaku finally says, tone flat and stare deadpan.

There’s a choked noise somewhere far off behind him, like the sound of a stifled cough or snicker, but a quick glance only offers a view of Cafe Nagi and Kusanagi’s head quickly ducking out of sight behind the counter. Yusaku blinks, eyebrows rising a bit, but he ultimately decides to ignore it and turns back to continue his staring contest with Kogami Ryoken, who, to his credit, is being incredibly patient all things considered. At a loss for anything else to say, however, Yusaku picks up his soda cup and takes a slow sip from the slightly chewed end of his plastic straw. The taste of fizzy cherry dances across his tongue. 

“…”

“…”

As the silence continues to stretch, Ryoken eventually releases a long, drawn out sigh, a touch of weariness creasing his brow. He unlaces his fingers from underneath his chin and sits back in his seat, lips slipping out of their disarming smirk and dipping into a tired frown instead. He reaches for one of the golden french fries he purchased upon arriving to the cafe and Yusaku’s eyes follow the movement in interest.

“The concept is simple.” Ryoken begins, free hand gesturing to the air as his other dips the fry into a dollop of ketchup. “You and I team up. Just you and me. No one else–”

“Is there something wrong with my teammates?”

Ryoken’s fingers pinch the fry between them a little harder than is necessary. 

“Let me finish.”

Yusaku’s eyes travel to the sky in an eye-roll, but he sticks the plastic straw back into his mouth, absentmindedly chewing on it as he leans forward a little and nods. 

“Fine.”

Ryoken huffs. “As I was saying, you and I form a ‘tag team’, I suppose you can say. The Ignis are crafty and will use all kinds of tricks to lure us all into a trap. Alone, we don’t stand a chance. But together, we’ll survive long enough to take them down.”

Ryoken takes the opportunity to slip the ketchup-coated, slightly mushed fry into his mouth and Yusaku frowns at him as his eyes follow the movement. Very briefly, he wonders how Ryoken can manage to eat something so greasy and salty and still manage to make it look elegant. 

“So what you’re saying,” Yusaku says slowly, eyes narrowing. “is to abandon everyone and let them get caught.”

Ryoken inclines his head in a short nod as he reaches for another french fry and sinks his pearly white teeth into it. “More or less.”

Yusaku sets his soda cup down, gaze stern. “Don’t be an asshole. I’m not going to abandon them. We’re a team. We help each other. Sharing is caring and all that, or something.”

“Yeah, asshole!” a tinier, higher pitched voice chips in. A quick glance at the duel disk strapped to Yusaku’s wrist reveals Ai peering up at them with a mischievous gleam in his yellow eyes. “Friends don’t abandon friends, even for a date with a hot cyber-terrorist~”

“It’s not a date.”

“It’s not a date.”

Both he and Ryoken speak simultaneously and they both pause to stare at each other, cheeks slightly pink. Ai snickers up at them.

“Keep telling yourselves that.” Ai continues, face squishing up in that way he likes doing when there’s something particularly “juicy” on display. “Honestly, who even needs tv dramas when I have a front row seat to  _this_ hot mess?”

Ryoken rounds on him, steely blue eyes piercing a hole into the tiny A.I. “Another reason to team up with me,  _the Ignis cheat_. Shouldn’t you be off with the other Ignis plotting ways to break the rules of the tag game?  _Stop eavesdropping._ ”

Ai snickers again and waves his hand at Ryoken dismissively. “Oh,  _please_. We’re gonna win the game faster than you humans can blink! We don’t need to cheat~”

Yusaku thinks it’s silly for them all to get so serious over a simple game of tag, but if this is how things are going to be, then perhaps he should state a rule ahead of time…

“No tentacles.”

Ai looks flabbergasted. “ _What?! That’s not fair!_ ”

Yusaku takes a rather loud sip of his drink and pointedly looks away, ignoring Ai’s outraged complaints and angry arm flailing. The sight makes for an amusing spectacle and Ryoken smothers a light snort behind another bite of ketchup-coated french fry. Yusaku is happy to say he doesn’t miss the way the corner of Ryoken’s lips upturn. Seeing it is a distraction and makes his mind wander to an earlier thought. 

Without asking for permission or giving any warning, he sets down his drink and reaches over to snatch up one of Ryoken’s fries. Victory is salty atop his tongue as the fry slips past his lips.

“Hey!” Ryoken looks put off and not-so-subtly pulls is little container of fries closer. He squints across the table, wariness shimmering in his eyes. “How _dare_ you–”

“If you want me to commit high treason and abandon my teammates, I need to be properly bribed.” Yusaku says, fingers poised and ready for another fry snatch attempt. His gaze is cool, but there’s a challenge there. “Now give me your fries.”


	2. Aoi/Yusaku: skirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “The skirt is supposed to be this short.”
> 
> Aoi and Yusaku prep themselves for an undercover mission to rescue Soulburner and Flame, but Yusaku has doubts because he's never worn a skirt before.

Head tilted upward at Aoi’s request, Yusaku’s eyes are trained on the sparkling chandelier above them, anxiety sitting heavy in his chest and worry keeping his lips pressed tightly together. He can’t quite bring himself to continue staring into the silvery glass of the changing room’s mirror anymore and so the flickering digital candle flames burning atop the chandelier seemed the best alternative. If he tries, he can probably forget himself in the flames, or so he thought, but instead of providing his anxious mind with senseless distraction or a quiet lull into nothing like he hoped, the flames simply make him focus on what he’s trying to not think about. **  
**

About Takeru missing. About Flame being gone. About the long tresses of hair spilling around his shoulders itching at his skin.

It’s enough to steal his breath and make him forget how to breath.

“Yusaku…”

And it causes a heavy sigh to spill into the room as a pair of hands grab his face and force his gaze back to Earth, back to the oceans that shine like diamonds in her eyes and the blue waves of silk that frame her face.

“You’re doing it again.” Aoi says quietly and shakes her head a little, a tiny frown on her face and a pinch of worry narrowing her eyes. “You there? You want to talk about it?”

Not really, he wants to say. I’ll be fine, he wants to assure. Takeru was captured and it’s all my fault and now you want me to wear heels and I think I’m going to have a panic attack in the middle of a crowd, he wants to breath. But he can’t. His mouth remains shut and his fingers curl into his palms, eyes too wide and glistening as his mind races and his chest heaves _because he can’t catch his breath and_ –-

“Yusaku!”

And then all at once, it stops.

Time stands still to allow him a moment to breath and his vision fills up with blue as Aoi’s arms wrap around his neck in a tight hug. It pulls him up, helps his clarity return, and he takes a deep breath like he’s broken the surface of a deep pool, no longer feeling like he’s drowning.  

“We’ll get him back. Both of them.” she assures him. She holds him just a bit longer, arms tightening, before she backs off, hands squeezing his bare shoulders in reassurance. There’s a tiny smile on her lips now and it helps to ground him in a way the candle flames could not. “This will work. Trust me.”

And he does, even if doubts plague his mind in the form of wedge heels and flared mini-skirts.

Speaking of which–-

“…do I have to expose so much skin?” he asks, gaze catching on the mirror standing behind her.

He’s quite a sight courtesy of Aoi’s handiwork with his new avatar skin. Long hair in reds and golds fall around his shoulders in gentle but messy curves. A cold-shoulder blouse in cream sits low with little pink ribbons tied at the sleeves and pink diamond patterns sewn into the bottom. On his wrists are colorful bracelets–-one of which is actually his duel disk in disguise–-and on his hips and carrying the brunt of his doubts is a flared, red mini-skirt that barely reaches mid-thigh.

He looks nothing like himself–-nothing like Playmaker-–and it’s startling to see this stranger staring back at him, looking as lost as he feels.

Aoi’s eyes drop straight to his thighs, eyes shimmering in amusement and interest as she takes a step back, hands at her hips.

“The skirt is supposed to be this short for sex appeal.” she answers, tone a bit smug as she admires her work. “Blue Angel is an idol and we’d have the entirety of Link VRAINS against us if she shows up to the festival with a boy, especially Playmaker, on her arm.”

Aoi is strong and knows how to dance her way into SOL’s good graces and trick them into believing she’s harmless. So if she says this idea of hers will work, then–-

She reaches out to grab his hands and holds them both up between them as she laces their fingers together. Her grin widens and she winks up at him.

“But another girl idol is no problem.” she continues and stands on her toes to press a quick kiss to his lips.” So congratulations, Ms. Violet, you’re now dating a famous duelist~”


	3. Ryoken/Yusaku: Madoka AU + TPN AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twos AUs of Ryoken and Yusaku leading two very different lives.
> 
> Prompt 1: “I’ve had enough! I want to be alone!”
> 
> Ryoken has suffered through hundreds of timelines and can't bear to watch Yusaku die in misery yet again, but Yusaku doesn't remember anything and doesn't trust him enough to listen.
> 
> Prompt 2: “Did they hurt you?”
> 
> Ryoken follows after his father's retreating back, bear plush in hand, to return to Reira before they're taken away to the hospital. But instead he discovers a terrible secret and makes a deal with the devil to save his best friend's life.

69\. “I’ve had enough! I want to be alone!” // Madoka Magica AU

“ _I’ve had enough!_ ” Ryoken shouts and slams his hands against the table as he stands, eyes wild and teeth barred. A few people around them jump in surprise and stare at him in worry, but quickly run off, not wanting to get involved in whatever argument is taking place. “For fuck’s sake, _why_ are you like this?! _Why can’t you just say no?!_ ”

Yusaku’s eyes are cold as he remains seated, but there’s a twist to his lips and a slight edge to his voice when he speaks.

“I don’t think it’s any of your business whether I make a contract with Kyuubey or not, Kogami-san. Jin, either. It’s our decision, not yours.”

Ryoken hates how Yusaku uses his surname like that, like they're complete and total strangers with no history of friendship or love between them. He hates how distant they are in this timeline, how that distance only seems to grow and grow the more he resets the world to try and save him and the others. He hates how, no matter how many times he tries, Yusaku always _always_ says yes. The reason is always different and the circumstances always change, but the end result is always the same. Yusaku always dies in some awful way that plagues Ryoken's dreams with viscous nightmares or his soul gem shatters, transforms into a grief seed, and Ryoken has to watch him burn the whole world to the ground.

Ryoken is always left alone, in the end, and has to start the cycle anew only to watch Yusaku and the others die, one after another, all over again.

_And he can’t take it anymore._

“I want to be alone right now. Excuse me.”

Tears prick at his eyes, blur his vision with hate and heartache. He turns sharply on his heel, leaving Yusaku at the cafe table alone. His thoughts are all over the place and he thinks, maybe, he should just get a head start and reset everything before he has a chance to watch Yusaku die again.

But first, first he needs a drink…

Still seated at the table, Yusaku watches Ryoken stomp away and sighs to himself with a slow shake of his head. A moment later, a weight settles atop his shoulder and he turns slightly to see a white creature snuggling into him with a vacant, crimson stare.

“I told you, didn’t I?” the creature he's come to know as Kyuubey says. “He’s threatened by your potential. He doesn’t want you to make a contract with me because you’ll absolutely be far more powerful than he ever could be.”

“…”

Yusaku turns back to watch Ryoken’s retreating back and thinks, somehow, that Kyuubey is wrong.

 

94\. “Did they hurt you?” // The Promised Neverland AU 

“Tousan? Reira?”

Ryoken peeks his head around the corner of a brick building to squint out into the darkness, searching for the tall figure that is his father. He came this way, not too long ago, hand-in-hand with one of the children Ryoken plays tag with in the Playground. The child in question is sickly and often has problems breathing, so much so that they spend a great deal of time hooked up to scary machines that breath for them instead of laughing and playing with he and the other six. Lately, they’ve been doing better, but Ryoken’s father says the child needs to see a specialist, someone more knowledgeable about lung functions and childhood diseases than he. It’s crazy to think there’s something his father doesn’t know because he knows everything there is! But if his father says it’s for Reira’s own good, then it must be true.

Still, Reira forgot their bear. His father forgot to take it with them! How could Reira recover properly without it?

Yusaku had wanted to come with him. _I want to help Reira, too_ , he’d said, but Ryoken merely shook his head and pushed his friend off to bed with a smile. There wasn’t any sense in them both getting in trouble for sneaking out to the forbidden gate. Besides, if Ryoken is caught, his father will go easy on him. It’s better this way, even if things outside are scarier without company.

Ryoken steps out into the open and pulls the zipper to his blue hoodie up a little more to protect himself from the chill. He adjusts his hold on Reira’s bear and peers out into the darkness a little harder, trying in vain to make out the shape of another human being.

“Tousaaaaan.” he calls again and takes a step forward, frowning a bit when there’s no reply. “Reiraaaaa.”

No white lab coats catch his eye and no movement can be seen shifting in the darkness. All he sees is part of a dirt road leading out into the world and a medical transportation van parked to the side of a large metal shutter. There’s no markings on the van that he can understand, just a stripe of red painted on the sides and a license plate that merely reads “SMILE”.

Ryoken hugs the bear close to his chest and walks over to stare up at the van in wonder. The back doors are cracked open just a bit and he wonders, idly, if this is kind of like an ambulance. Sick people ride to hospitals in ambulances, so Reira must be taking this to see the new doctor. Right?

But then why is it still here if Reira and his father aren’t? Are they getting ready to leave perhaps? Where are they?

He pouts a little and moves to stick his little hand into the door’s opening to pull it open. He wants to see Reira and give them their bear back personally, but maybe they’ll find it if he just sets it in the back of the van. If they’re going to ride it to see the new doctor, then surely–-

“ _G, grk._ ”

Paper white fingers suddenly shoot out from the space between the doors and wrap around his wrist in a grip so tight, Ryoken thinks they’re going to crack his bones into pieces. He drops the bear and it tumbles under the van as he pushes at the hand gripping his wrist.

“L-let go! That  _hurts_!”

The paper white fingers start to dig their nails into his skin and he cries out as blood begins to bubble up, tears pooling in his wide eyes out of fear and pain.

“ _S-stop it! Tousan, help!_ ”

Something slices through the air in answer to his pleas and the hand digging into his wrist goes flying, leaving nothing but a bloody stump in its place and a stunned silence hanging in the air. Ryoken cradles his injured wrist to his chest as he backs away from the van and his gaze catches on the glinting metal of a bloody hatchet being held in his father’s hand.

He doesn’t know what’s scarier: seeing a handless arm or seeing his father holding the weapon that dismembered it.

His father huffs out a sigh and lets the hatchet fall from his fingers to clang loudly against the ground.

“Ryoken,” he starts, disappointment evident in his tone. “do you have any idea what time it is?”

The casual way his father speaks-–like he hadn’t just sliced off someone’s hand with an axe-–unnerves him and he takes an unconscious step back. If his father notices, he says nothing about it. Instead, he comes to kneel down before him and holds out a hand for Ryoken to take.

“Let me see your wrist.”

Shakily, Ryoken obediently does as told and allows his father to observe the bloody puncture marks decorating his wrist with gentle touches. Fingers press against the crescent-shaped cuts and force his wrist to bend and Ryoken jumps, wincing, causing his father to frown.

“We’ll need to disinfect this thoroughly.” his father mumbles to himself, eyes still glued to Ryoken’s wrist. “An injection should take care of the pain as well…”

His father is acting too casual about this, like Ryoken’s merely fallen and scraped his knee instead of being assaulted by someone he couldn’t see. It doesn’t sit right with him and it’s twisting his stomach into knots the more he thinks about it.

“T-tousan…w-who was that?” he asks, voice meek and watery. “T-the hand-–you…”

His father’s gaze shifts to Ryoken’s teary face and there’s an eerie pause before an odd smile slowly stretches its way across his father’s face. It makes Ryoken want to curl back into the safety of the shadows where he can’t be seen and it’s strange because he has no reason to fear his father. He doesn’t! His father isn’t bad or mean. All the other children love him just as much as Ryoken himself does. So he can’t be bad.

He just can’t be.

And Ryoken shouldn’t fear him.

He, he shouldn’t…

“I was hoping to have this conversation with you when you became older.” his father starts. “But you are eight years old now. Given the circumstances, I think now is as good a time as any to tell you about my work.”

His…work? What does that have to do with the white hand or Reira being sick or Ryoken being hurt and scared and cold and confused?

“You trust in me, don’t you, son?” His father cups Ryoken’s face gently and brushes away the lingering tears dripping down Ryoken’s cheeks. “Have I ever done anything to hurt you?”

No. No, he hasn’t. He’s never done anything to hurt him or the other children. He can be stern at times, but he’s never been cruel. This, Ryoken knows and despite the sick feeling in his gut, he nods and tries to smile up at his father.

“I trust you, tousan.”

His father ruffles his hair. “Good boy.”

His father then moves to stand and walks back over to the back of the van’s doors. He grips the door handles and flings them open. Inside, there’s strange machines and an empty gurney, like Ryoken has seen ambulances have in picture books.

And on the floor, where the stump arm lies–-

“ _This_.” his father says, gesturing to a still, pale body with glassy blue eyes. Ryoken’s own widen in recognition, shock piercing his body and causing his ears to ring. “An offering to the heathen god to ensure our safety. It’s for the good of humanity. Although it’s a shame I had to damage the body…still. They won’t turn down an offering with such high marks.”

_Reira_.

Ryoken tries to take another step back, but he’s frozen to the spot, mind unable to process what he’s seeing. Reira’s body is slumped onto the floor of the van, handless arm hanging out the back while their head is slumped over, unseeing eyes staring up at the sky.

“R-reira…Rei...ra…”

He finds he can’t say anything else. All he can think about is how Reira was smiling at them just a few minutes ago, making a promise to be good and let the new doctor make them well enough to play tag with them again. But now Reira is here, an unmoving body dumped into the back of a strange van.

And his father…his father, who takes care of them all, who shields them all from the horrors of the world, is happy about it. His father, who reads them bedtime stories, plays games with them, teaches them how to do all kinds of things to better themselves and prepare them for adulthood…doesn’t care that  _that is Reira._

And if that’s Reira…than what about all the other children that have left before them? Were they, were they left to die like this as well?

“Rei...ra…why…t-tousan, wh-–”

His father moves to kneel down in front of him again and settles his hands atop his shoulders, causing him to flinch and stare up at him in fear.

“You know those stories I’ve told you all about how bad children are eaten by the heathen god? By demons? Well, that was a bit of a lie.” his father chuckles. Ryoken doesn’t see how any of this is funny. His mind is racing. “You see, the heathen god doesn’t eat bad children. It likes the smart ones best. Reira certainly was, but was also a very sick child. This was for the best and this is what I do. I raise martyrs for the heathen god and its nobles to…well, enjoy.”

Ryoken’s eyes can’t widen anymore if he tried. His father is saying words he knows the meanings to, but none of them are processing. All he knows is Reira is gone, his friends are in danger, and his father…his father lied.

_His father lied._

“A-am I…going to be an o-offering, too?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” his father scoffs. “You’re my own flesh and blood. I don’t want to use you as meat. I want you to follow in my footsteps.”

And do what he does? Hurt other children and sell them off like cattle? Why would Ryoken ever–-he  _loves_ the other children! He’s grown up without a mother and no siblings, but he’s always had other kids to play with! Yusaku and Spectre and Miyu and Jin and–-he  _loves_ them! He doesn’t want them to die like this!

Ryoken starts shaking his head and his father frowns in a way that makes a fresh wave of fear trickle down his spine.

“ _Ryoken_.” His father’s grip on his shoulders tighten and Ryoken swallows around a lump in his throat at the piercing look he’s being given. “There’s not much us humans can do to survive in this world. Your mother…she was foolish to fight those things and I don’t want you to follow in her path. I’ll give you anything you desire in exchange. Just do as I say and become my successor. Do you understand?”

Ryoken doesn’t want anything to do with this, but something in his father’s words catches his attention. He needs to protect the others and he can ask for anything in return if he just agrees, right?

“D-don’t hurt them.” he mumbles and holds his injured wrist closer to his chest.

His father huffs. “Don’t mumble, Ryoken. I’ve taught you better. Speak up and speak clearly.”

White hot anger floods his veins and he can’t help shouting: “ _I said don’t hurt them!_ ”

His father blinks and pulls away, taken aback by his shout.

“Ry–-”

“P-promise me you won’t take the others! T-they’re my family!”

His father is silent a moment, eyes wide, before his face hardens and whatever warmth he had in his eyes dies.

“No.” his voice is cold and his tone sharp. “Those six are the best specimens I’ve ever cultivated. You need to learn to think more logically. Why would I give them to you when their sacrifices will satiate the heathen god for months?”

Ryoken takes a step towards him. “But you sai–-”

“ _No_.” his deep voice is so harsh that Ryoken freezes, too afraid to move. “What I said is no, Ryoken.”

Ryoken’s mouth hangs open and all the anger and color drains from his face. He stares down at the ground, fresh tears blurring his vision. Was that his only chance to save them? Is there even another way at all? What is he supposed to do? How can he get them all out of this?

_What is he supposed to do?_

Another sigh spills out of his father’s mouth when Ryoken only sniffles in reply.

“…one. I’ll allow  _one_.” When Ryoken looks up, his father is shaking his head and then mumbling to himself. “I thought my heart was closed off, but I’ve never been able to stand seeing you cry…”

One… So his father is saying he’ll let Ryoken choose to save _one_ of the others.

It's not good enough... It's not good enough! But he finds himself blurting out a name before it even registers in his mind.

“Yusaku.” he says and shrinks in on himself when his father simply nods. “…Yusaku.”

-x-x-

Ryoken stumbles into the big bedroom he shares with the other kids with a haunted look on his face and a slight burning in his wrist. His father patched him up before sending him off to bed, but it still aches a bit and he doesn’t know how he’s going to explain it to the others when they see him in the morning.

And he especially doesn’t know what he’s going to say about Reira.

His father told him not to say anything about it. _They can’t know_ , he’d stressed, but Ryoken doesn’t trust him anymore. Not after what he’s seen and discovered. His stomach is still churning from the experience and making the room spin.

“Ryoken?”

A whisper catches him off-guard as he reaches his bed and he freezes, heart leaping into his throat in momentary fright, before the voice registers and a head of blue and pink pops into his vision. Bright green eyes shimmer in the darkness, worry creasing his brow. Yusaku, as he expected, hasn’t slept a wink without him and now–-

What does he do now? What does he say?

Something must be showing on his face because Yusaku reaches out to take his hand and pulls him down to the floor to sit beside their shared bed. The two of them never have been able to sleep well without the other near, but even with Yusaku’s hand holding his and just his general presence making him feel safe and warm, Ryoken doesn’t think he’ll sleep at all tonight.

“What’s going on?” Yusaku continues when he says nothing and presses himself closer. “Your eyes are watery…”

Ryoken opens his mouth but can’t find the words he needs. Instead, what comes out are more tears and a choked sob he tries to keep as smothered as he can. His shoulders shake and guilt pools in his lungs, making it hard for him to breath.

“I…tousan…tousan di–”

“Are you hurt?!”

Yusaku suddenly leans forward and takes his injured hand in his own. Ryoken winces slightly but does nothing to pull it away and only feels sicker as he watches Yusaku’s eyes widen. He takes a moment to study his hand and then those green eyes are back on his face, searching for an answer Ryoken doesn’t know how to give.

Slowly, something clicks and Yusaku’s eyes narrow.

“You said something about tousan…” he starts and then pauses, looking conflicted but then continuing with a waver in his voice. “What happened with Reira? Did…did tousan get angry? Did he hurt you?”

_Yes!_ , Ryoken wants to shout, tears pooling and dripping down his cheeks as his lips tremble.  _He’s going to sell everyone off as food and I only agreed to help him to save you!_

He can’t force any words to come, however, and instead just nods and buries his face into Yusaku’s shoulder, a sob leaving him as he clings to his best and, after what he’s done, only friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually have A Lot of notes about the Madoka AU. It's an AU I've actually had for quite some time, but I doubt I'll ever actually do anything properly with. Perhaps I'll do another snippet from it, but it's unlikely. So have a little insider info! 
> 
> Ryoken is essentially the Homura in this situation and like her his wish was centered around one person (Yusaku) and thus he's accidentally created someone with godly potential in magic. However, he wants to save all the others (the Lost Kids), too, but he's never able to save anyone and has had to watch them all die again and again and it's really made him incredibly jaded and detached from others. He steadily falls into a deep depression and has taken up drinking as a form of coping. He's still stubborn, tho, and keeps resetting the timeline to try and save everyone but he's starting to become tired and is on the verge of giving up altogether. Then Kyuubey tells him what his resets have done to Yusaku and he breaks. 
> 
> It's honestly a really sad AU that I haven't been able to concoct a happy ending for and I never wanted to go the God!Yusaku route so the AU sits in "Ryoken suffers and dies in vain" limbo and I don't like that but here we are. oof
> 
> As for TPN AU, it's pretty loosely based on it. At the time I hadn't seen or read all of the series (I have now but) so it doesn't totally match up but the idea is essentially the same. I doubt I'll ever do anything else with this AU but for some thoughts I had about it:
> 
> Ryoken's mother used to help care for the other children before she got pregnant with Ryoken. Back then, what they were doing for the demons really hurt her and once she had Ryoken, she refused to let it keep happening so she tried to smuggle the children plus her son out and got caught. The children were returned and she was punished by being murdered and then eaten for disobeying, but she went down fighting. Ryoken was too young to remember any of this.


	4. Takeru/Yusaku: ticklish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Stop it! It tickles!”
> 
> Yusaku accidentally injures himself and Takeru escorts him to the nurse's office to get his injury checked out.

Yusaku presses a hand against his side and doubles over, wincing, as he tries to steady himself against the wall with his other hand. His school bag is slumped over onto the ground and all its contents (his dummy deck, some pamphlets from the Duel Club, and his school tablet) are all scattered across the classroom floor. It’s a mess and he can’t even try to pretend his side doesn’t hurt something awful.

Upon class ending, Yusaku had stood up and began gathering his things so he could leave before anyone could stop him. He planned on meeting up with Takeru somewhere so they could have lunch together, but while attempting to step away from his desk, Shima Naoki (a troublesome classmate of his and the one he was trying to distance himself from to begin with) tried to barrel his way past, only to end up accidentally shoving Yusaku straight into the sharp edge of a desk.

He just knows there’s going to be an ugly bruise there by the end of the day.

“Oh fu–-hey, Fujiki? You okay?”

Yusaku opens his eyes to stare up at Shima’s guilty face. With them still narrowed in pain, his look comes off as a rather fierce glare and Shima instinctively shrinks away from it. Yusaku doesn’t bother trying to clarify.

“ _Shit_ , man, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to run into you!”

Yusaku knows that. Shima can be somewhat of a pain at times (especially when it concerns Playmaker or Duel Club activities), but he doesn’t go around throwing people into desks because he wants to. If there’s any points in Shima’s favor, it’s that he’s not a bully. At least not intentionally.

“I’m…fine.” Yusaku says, voice tight and just generally not very convincing. His side  _aches_ and he very much would like to just curl up and lie down for a while. “I’ll, I’ll be fine. Just–-”

“Yusaku?!”

Yusaku blinks up at the sound of his name and sees Takeru rushing through the doorway, a frown on his lips and worry shining in his eyes. He must have come to meet him in the hallway, like he usually does. How long has Yusaku been leaning against the wall exactly?

Takeru rushes to his side and lets his own bag drop to the floor. Then his hands hover over Yusaku, uncertainty apparent, and he bites down on his lip and makes some little noise as his gaze falls to where Yusaku’s hand is gripping his side.

“What happened?” he asks, voice a bit panicked. He settles for placing his hands atop Yusaku’s shoulders and lets one tentatively trail down Yusaku’s arm and to the hand clutching his side. “Did someone–-”

“I didn’t mean to, I swear!” Shima defends.

Takeru turns his head Shima’s way, a confused look on his face but suspicion evident. His eyes narrow a bit and then his mouth starts to open–-

“It was an accident.” Yusaku says quickly, defusing the situation before it can even begin. Takeru is kind, but he has quite the temper and is the type to hit first and ask questions later. Shima owes him now. “I just hit a desk.”

“Yikes.” Takeru turns back to him and rubs his shoulder gently. His voice dips into something a little softer. “I’ll take you to see the nurse. Can you walk? I can–-”

No. _No_. They weren’t about to do _this_.

“Don’t you dare carry me through this school or I’ll disown you.”

Takeru snorts and offers Yusaku a too-bright smile and a little shoulder squeeze. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But I can still escort you there and, you know, make sure you don’t faint? Come on. Let’s go while everyone is busy with lunch. I’ll come back for our stuff later.”

Honestly, Yusaku thinks he’ll be fine (aside from having a nasty bruise form), but he really would like to lie down. The infirmary tends to be nice and quiet during all hours of the day. If nothing else, maybe he can have a decent nap, so long as Takeru remains nearby. So he merely nods and Takeru moves to hold a hand at his back to keep him steady. His other, he uses to wave at Shima.

“I got this. See you later.”

-x-x-

When they reach the infirmary, it’s blissfully empty, which Yusaku is very grateful for. The nurse must be out to lunch. That’ll save him an explanation as to why he had to be escorted here, at least.

“Looks like we have the room to ourselves.” Takeru muses and offers Yusaku a grin when their eyes meet. “Guess this means I get to be your nurse?”

Yusaku hits his shoulder with a weak slap and earns a laugh in return.

“I’ll be fine.” he insists and winces again when he shifts on his feet. “I’d…just like to lie down for a few minutes.”

He spots a secluded bed near the corner of the room and makes a beeline for it, careful not to hit anything else on his way there. Takeru follows along after him, smile still on his lips but eyebrows knit in concern.

“At least let me look at it.” Takeru says and although he’s trying not to sound worried, he does. A lot. Enough to make Yusaku feel guilty. “I promise I won’t poke you or anything. I’ll be super gentle. Promise!”

Yusaku takes a seat on the side of the bed and eyes Takeru quietly, weighing his options. On one hand, he knows he’ll be fine, eventually. He’s had far worse done to him in the past. A bruised side is nothing in comparison to months of torture and starvation and what feels like a lifetime of loneliness. But on the other, he knows Takeru will be upset with him for not taking care of it and in the grand scheme of things, Takeru being upset wins out over Yusaku’s disinterest in his own health.

So he sighs and carefully starts to remove his school blazer.

“Alright, but this really isn’t necessary…”

Takeru takes a seat beside him, eyes softening and grin widening. “I know, but thanks.”

Yusaku shakes his head, lips twitching, almost turning up into something fond. “I should be the one thanking you honestly…”

When the blazer is off and a few buttons to Yusaku’s dress shirt are undone, Takeru holds up part of the shirt and inspects Yusaku’s side with a pinch to his expression and a twist to his lips.

“ _Yikes_.” he says with a hiss. He reaches out to trail his fingers over Yusaku’s side as gently as he can. “This is going to be a really nasty bruise. You sure you didn’t crack a rib or something?”

Fingers brush over his ribs and Yusaku jumps and makes an odd face but manages to shake his head.

“I-I…no. It’s fine.”

His voice sounds odd too and Takeru raises an eyebrow at him.

“You okay? You sound a little weird.” Takeru’s gaze returns to his side and his fingers move again, making Yusaku squirm. “Did I touch something I shouldn’t have? It shouldn’t hurt. Hey, don’t squirm so mu–-”

“ _I’m fine_.” Yusaku’s answer comes a little higher and more forcefully than he intends and he swats Takeru’s hands away with a huff. “It’s-–I’ll be fine. Don’t worry so much.”

Takeru squints at him, takes a moment to think, and then blinks, eyes glossy with realization.

“ _Ooohh_ , I get it! You’re ti–-”

“ _Shut up_.”

Takeru chuckles good naturedly. “Yusaku, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Lots of people are. It’s normal!”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.” Yusaku turns away from him and starts buttoning up his shirt. He probably wouldn’t mind so much with Takeru, but if he can help it, he’d rather just  _not_. “It’s si–- _hey_!”

Takeru sneakily pokes his fingers into Yusaku’s other side, near his hip, and keeps them there with a few wiggles. A mischievous smile replaces his grin and Yusaku tries but he can’t really get away.

“Takeru, s-stop it! That–-” Something that sounds suspiciously like a tiny giggle slips out his mouth and Takeru is  _fascinated_ by it. “T-Takeru, if you don’t sto–-”

Yusaku manages to grab hold of a pillow and promptly whacks Takeru with it. Multiple times.

“Aaahh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Takeru sounds nothing of the sort. In fact, he’s laughing. The jerk. “Mercy! I give!, I give!”

Yusaku huffs at him and almost tries to hit him again when arms circle his waist. Takeru doesn’t try anything again and he’s also mindful not to mash into his bruise. A little kiss is pressed to his temple in apology.

“Forgive me?”

…maybe. Takeru meant no harm. He’s just the playful sort. So, he supposes he can do that, just this once.

“ _No_.” he says anyway and Takeru whines.


	5. Takeru/Yusaku: fall damage + nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 1: “I won’t let you get hurt.”
> 
> Playmaker is on a one-way path to smashign into the ground, but Soulburner won't let it happen.
> 
> Prompt 2: “Don’t shut me out.”
> 
> Yusaku and Takeru have a sleepover, but Yusaku has another of his nightmares and Takeru wants to be the one to help him through it.

66\. “I won’t let you get hurt.”

Nine-hundred points of damage slams into his body with all the force of a wrecking ball and throws him off his feet. His D-Board slips away, far out of his reach, and Ai is screaming as they’re both sent plummeting to the ground below.

_‘Doesn’t Link VRAINS have fall damage?’_

The stray thought floats through his mind rather calmly considering how close the ground is becoming. He should probably be far more panicked than he is because what happens when he slams into the ground? And just how badly is this going to hurt? Ai is certainly no help with all the flailing he’s doing, both of them at the mercy of the harsh wind whipping past.

In the past, he’s fallen off his D-Board before. Not many times, mind you, but it’s not an experience he’s unfamiliar with and probably not one he won’t ever have again. But the point there is that it’s happened before and he’s survived it, somehow, each and every time.

This time, however, there’s nothing to stop him from actually hitting the ground.

“ _Playmaker!_ ”

He hears the shout from far off but doesn’t process that anything is flying towards him until he suddenly finds himself landing into the safety of Soulburner’s arms rather than hitting the ground in a wave of pain. Soulburner’s D-Board dips and wobbles unsteadily from the catch, but is quickly righted and then things calm and they hover in the air like this.

He blinks, bewildered, as his mind rushes to comprehend what’s happening and his gaze slowly drifts up to stare into Soulburner’s stressed but smiling face as he grins down at him. The arms underneath his knees and back hold him more closely to Soulburner's chest.

“For a moment I thought I wouldn’t be fast enough.” Soulburner says and lets out a deep sigh, relief slowly swallowing the apprehension. His eyes settle into something soft. “But I’ll always be here to catch you when you fall. I won’t let you get hurt.”

Playmaker’s eyes widen a bit at that and he’s thankful he has the blush emote disabled.

 

98\. “Don’t shut me out.”

It’s one of those nights where Yusaku bolts out of bed in a panic, eyes wide and chest heaving as visions of electric white and bloodstained cards obscure his vision completely. He’s so far off in his head that he’s completely forgotten where he is and even _who_ he is. Blood thrums through his ears as his heart races and he grips the front of his shirt tightly, struggling to breathe.

There’s movement next to him and it makes him jump, breath hitching, as hands cover his shoulders and he hears muffled words in his ears that he’s unable to process.

“–saku? Yusaku, hey–-ah  _shit_ you’re–-okay  _listen_. Please breath. Can you do that for me?  _Breath_. You’re  _not_ there anymore, okay?”

A hand covers the one clutched to his chest and another cups his face with a gentle swipe of its thumb. It’s takes a moment or three or maybe hours have passed, but his sight returns to him, eventually, and his breathing stabilizes.

He finally looks up to see Takeru on his knees beside him, worry dulling his eyes and twisting his lips in a watery frown. Seeing it makes Yusaku feel guilty because this was supposed to be an easy night for the both of them. Just a little sleepover at Takeru’s apartment. Nothing more, nothing less. But here he’s gone and had another nightmare and he’s usually fine sleeping around others.

The guilt eats at him and makes his lips twist. Takeru would understand this more than anyone, but Yusaku can’t inconvenience him like this. Yusaku is hardly okay, doesn’t wish to talk, and would rather go find a quiet place to curl up in alone, but he swallows the desire to leave so he can spare Takeru’s feelings. He can just go watch mindless videos of cats online or take up some random coding job to pass his time while Takeru continues to sleep. There’s no reason they both have to suffer just because Yusaku’s demons can’t stay beneath his skin where they belong.

“I’m fine.” he manages to say quietly, nothing more than a whisper. “…sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I-–we-–” Takeru struggles for words but eventually just sighs and squeezes Yusaku’s hand. “I  _know_. You don’t have to apologize for it.”

Yusaku shakes his head a little and tries to move away. He can’t speak the words he’d like to say, voice having suddenly left him mute, but Takeru doesn’t give him the chance to argue anyway because he grabs Yusaku’s shoulders and pulls him to his chest in a hug.

“Please don’t shut me out.” Takeru’s voice becomes quieter and the hug becomes a little tighter. “You don’t have to talk about it, but…but at least let me do this much and stay with you. Being alone is always the worst part of this…”

Yusaku opens his mouth but again, nothing comes. He probably won’t sleep at all after waking up this way. He rarely does out of a secret fear of being tossed back into that awful place. He could try and move away again, but he doesn’t have the heart nor the energy to reject Takeru right now.

Besides, although he wants to be alone, Takeru is right. Being alone after that is…it’s always the worst part.

His shoulders sag and presses into Takeru’s chest like a dead weight. He nods a little, because that’s all he can do right now, and the relief in Takeru’s voice when he speaks again does wonders to help him relax.

“Thank you.


	6. Yusaku/Jin: sign language

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “You’re not as quiet as you think you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually use the the prompt line in this one, but it has the same feeling even without it, I think.

“Evening.”

Jin looks up from the glossy magazine in his hands, surprised but happy, and lets the magazine rest in his lap while he waves a hand at Yusaku in return. Yusaku makes a few sweeping gestures with his hands and Jin lightly claps his own hands together a few times, looking pleased.

_Good evening, Fujiki-san. You’ve gotten better at greetings._  Jin signs in reply and gestures to the empty seat next to him. Yusaku inclines his head in a little nod and continues his walk through the common room to the sofa Jin is seated at.  _Have you been practicing without me?_

“A little.” Yusaku says while signing in reply. He takes a seat beside Jin and sets his school bag down on the floor by his feet. “I think I have the basics down, but it’s the stuff with feelings I’m having a little trouble with.”

Yusaku isn’t someone who cares to emote all that much and it’s something that trickles down into how he signs. It’s very precise and methodical, like something an A.I. without any emotional coding programmed into them might do. It’s nothing soft like Jin’s or animated like Kusanagi’s, but neither of them seem perturbed by it. Still, if he can, Yusaku would like to change that, if for no other reason than to see Jin pleased with him.

_Ah. You’ll get it eventually._  Jin signs back and offers Yusaku a little shoulder pat in encouragement.  _You’ve already picked up a lot within just a few weeks. We can have full conversations without a need for pen and paper now._

“Yes, well…” Yusaku hesitates here, tongue stilling, and shifts a little in his seat. His hands move eventually but a bit slowly and shakily. “I…have a good teacher.”

Jin’s eyes widen a bit and he quickly looks back down at his magazine, cheeks a bit pink and hands a bit fidgety atop the pages. Yusaku looks down at his lap as well, feeling heat creep across his skin.

Time for a subject change.

“S…so, what are you reading?”

Jin’s shoulders hunch and he fidgets a bit more before he seems to come to a decision and scoots over, closer to Yusaku, until their thighs are touching. He pulls half of the magazine over into Yusaku’s lap and simply points at a rather high quality cutout of Playmaker posed mid-draw. It certainly has Yusaku’s eyebrows rising. People and their ability to capture pictures like this never fails to both amaze and frighten him.

_It’s…talking about your body type and such._ Jin signs meekly, looking a bit embarrassed about it.  _There’s dueling stats as well and an interesting breakdown of one of your duels against Revolver, but it seems people are attracted to Playmaker, too._

That hardly surprises him. It’s not the first time the subject of his looks have come up among the media or with horny fans on message boards. It still weirds him out at times, but he ultimately doesn’t care all that much. It’s not like these people would ever see him in the flesh.

However, for Jin to be reading such a thing–-

_It’s not what you think!_ Jin signs quickly, a bit flustered.  _Not that Playmaker isn’t attractive, but I think Fujiki-san is nicer to look at and–-_

Jin abruptly stops signing the more fidgety he becomes and presses his face into his hands, a little whine trickling out between his fingers. He’s embarrassed, very much so, but Yusaku can’t blame him because he can feel his own embarrassment lighting up his face.

Things like this, little shared spaces and touches and quiet admittances, have been happening for the past few weeks. With Hanoi dealt with and nothing else on their plate but real recovery, healing, and futures to decide, Kusanagi thought it would be nice if he and Jin finally had a chance to meet. So they did and hit it off rather well, or as well as two quiet teenagers with troubled pasts can, anyway. But Kusanagi seemed to figure something out around the third week of visits and started to encourage Yusaku to visit Jin on his own ever since. It was strange, at the time, but Yusaku thinks he understands what that something might have been now.

“Th…thanks.” Yusaku manages. He doesn’t sign this and isn’t even sure why he responds with it anyway. His eyes flicker back to the article, mind quickly searching for a new topic and hands beginning to move again. “I don’t visit Link VRAINS much anymore. Kusanagi-san says people miss seeing Playmaker, but I don’t really have a reason to be him now. I’m just trying to be Yusaku.”

“Mm.” Jin lets his hands slip back into his lap and hums, nodding a bit.

_It’s hard to be yourself when you don’t know what it means to live that way._ Jin signs. He points at the cutout of Playmaker again.  _Playmaker will always be there when you need him again, but I’m happy I get to know who Fujiki-san is in person instead of through a screen. So, I don’t mind if Playmaker stays quiet for a while if that means I get to see Fujiki-san almost every day._

Yusaku keeps his gaze locked on the Playmaker cutout and feels the heat underneath his skin burn a little more brightly. Neither of them seems to be able to go three seconds without saying something that causes the other to feel flustered. Despite the flush, however, a tiny smile finds its way to Yusaku’s face.

“Mm.” he hums.

There’s a light tap at Yusaku’s shoulder and he turns, a question in his eyes. Jin points at him then pulls his hand up and towards himself before making a waving motion with his hands over his chest.

“I’m happy you came.” Jin surprises him by saying despite the signing, voice quiet but lips settled into a soft smile. His hands continue to move by pointing at both himself and Yusaku, but it’s something Yusaku hasn’t learned yet. “Thank you.”

Yusaku blinks and frowns just a little. Jin said “thank you”, but Yusaku knows how to say that in sign language already and what Jin signed isn’t it.

“What did you say?” Yusaku asks and signs the question as well, for emphasis. “I didn’t understand.”

Jin’s smile only grows and a very tiny laugh slips out. He gives a little teasing shrug in response and hums a little as he returns to his magazine and flips the page.

Yusaku’s frown turns into more of a pout.

“Jin-san.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jin being mostly mute and using sign language to communicate is a personal headcanon of mine that I'm really in love with and it's seeped into everything I write, for the most part. I know a bit of sign language myself, mostly JSL (which is what Jin uses in here). It helps me study the language and also, as someone who struggles with selective mutism myself, it helps me feel better to have another form of communication available to me. 
> 
> Anyway, it's just a headcanon for Jin that I really like. haha


	7. Ryoken/Yusaku: maze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “It’s okay to cry…”
> 
> Lightning traps Revolver, Playmaker, and the Dark Ignis in a maze following the duel with Kusanagi. Revolver tries to lead them both to safety, but Playmaker is suffering in silence and so Revolver does the only thing he can for him.

“Like rats trapped in a maze…”

Revolver’s face pinches as he surveys their decorative surroundings. The area Lightning has them trapped in now is like an endless labyrinth of identical, antiquated hallways, each dimly lit with flickering, brass candelabra. Various paintings with no real significance decorate the off-white walls, lush red rugs line the creaking floorboards here and there, and occasionally a divan the same color as the rugs would sit propped next to a wall.

“Sheesh. What is this, P.T.?”

The Ignis attached to Playmaker’s wrist (Ai, if he cares to remember its name) makes some sarcastic little comment to fill in the quiet and Revolver shoots it a piercing stare. He half-expects Playmaker to give it a quiet admonishment in response, but there’s no reaction from him and if the A.I.’s sagging shoulders are any indication, it’s disappointed by this nearly as much as Ryoken is himself.

The deathly silence that hangs in the air between them is fragile, stagnant, and dripping with such a heavy layer of unease that he fears breaking it in any way will cause his companion to spontaneously shatter like glass. Ryoken doesn’t know what he’s thinking, but the haunted, glazed over look in Playmaker’s eyes is enough to force him to swallow his words and not take the risk of breaking his mind’s detachment from reality.

_‘Should I say something?’_  he wonders, when the Ignis looks between them helplessly.  _‘It’s not really my place to, but Soulburner is gone now, too.’_

Playmaker hasn’t said a word since they were tossed into this place and Ryoken can feel the weight of the world on his shoulders more than ever before. With everyone else gone, it’s just the two of them and the Dark Ignis left. Ryoken isn’t exactly someone to seek comfort from and the Ignis is…well, it’s an artificial intelligence with trash taste in television shows. Neither of them are what Playmaker needs or likely even wants, but–

Revolver abruptly holds out an arm and they both stop moving as he takes a quick peek around the corner and into the adjacent corridor. His gaze roams, eyes sharp and taking in every little detail he can make out, but when he sees nothing strange like the hallway unexpectedly changed or some kind of monster lurking in the shadows awaiting them, he relaxes his shoulders a little and waves his hand as cue for Playmaker to follow.

“I don’t see anything, but be on your guard.” he warns. “The Light Ignis is toying with us. There’s no telling what traps lie in wait.”

Playmaker says nothing. When Revolver turns back to look, he sees that Playmaker isn’t even looking at him or their surroundings at all. Rather, his eyes are downcast and stuck on the polished wood flooring beneath their feet with an unseeing gaze. If he didn’t know any better, Ryoken would think the avatar to be empty.

“Ah, hey, Playmaker-sama? Coast is clear?” The Ignis hiding away in Playmaker’s duel disk peeks out and tries to wave a hand in front of Playmaker’s face. Ryoken’s eyes narrow down at it and it eeps, retreating a bit and offering him a nervous titter. “J-just trying to help?”

“I don’t need any help.” Ryoken’s tone is dark and the Ignis retreats into the duel disk a bit further. It’s a small victory to have the thing fear him, considering the circumstances of their temporary truce and, well now  _this_. “Least of all from  _you_.”

Playmaker doesn’t stir even from that and Ryoken sighs before finally reaching forward to take his companion’s right hand, much to the Ignis’s immediate relief. If Playmaker lacks the will to move forward, then Ryoken can do this much to help. Besides, it’s probably safer if they stay close and he has constant contact with him. Playmaker is so quiet that if something were to suddenly whisk him away then–

“Let’s go while we can.” he says, hoping for some kind of reaction, but again, there is none. Not much of one, anyway. Playmaker lifts his head a bit and stares at their joined hands, but he says nothing about it and gives a blank stare instead. “…Playmaker.”

“…”

There’s only so much of this he can take. This is too much like how it was back when they were small. He knows the duel with Kusanagi Shoichi rattled Playmaker right down to his very core, but–

Well, there’s not really a need to finish that sentence, now is there?

Playmaker–no, Fujiki Yusaku–has mentally shut himself down out of shock. He just had his long-time comrade turn on him after the Light Ignis dangled the promise of freedom for Kusanagi Jin in exchange for Playmaker being made a sacrifice. Play–Yusaku hadn’t wanted to fight and he didn’t, but things happened, his hand was forced by the Dark Ignis, and now here he is, silent as the grave and locked inside his head.

Suffering in silence.

Ryoken squeezes Playmaker’s hand and hesitates briefly before he reaches up to press fingers underneath Playmaker’s chin.

“Look at me.”

He forces Playmaker’s head to tilt back up and then freezes at the watery green glaze staring back at him. There are unshed tears collected in the corners of Playmaker’s eyes and seeing them makes Ryoken feel a crippling sense of guilt. Somehow, this is his fault. He should have made better security precautions, he should have done a better job at securing Kusanagi’s place at Playmaker’s side, he should have–

“Playmaker-sama?” The Ignis peeks back out of Playmaker’s duel disk and peers up at the two of them, a worried squish to its round face. “Maybe you’d feel a little better if you just cried?”

_War doesn’t give you time to mourn_ , the thought echoes in his mind.

The Ignis slinks out a little further and settles a hand over where its heart would be, had it been organic. “We’re connected, you know? I can feel it in here… And if you don’t let it out soon, Lightning might actually–”

The Ignis stops, looking terrified for a moment, and then stretches up to press its tiny hands to Playmaker’s face. Ryoken doesn’t care for it honestly and his brow twitches, but he slowly lets the hand he still has at Playmaker’s chin fall to give them space.

“ _Yusaku_.” Something about the way the Ignis says his name sparks something in Playmaker’s gaze. “I don’t want Lightning to take you, too… So just, just cry or tell me to shut up or something,  _anything_! …please?”

He hates to admit it, but the Ignis has a point. Like this, Playmaker is practically dead weight and makes an even easier target for the Light Ignis to attack. He can’t fight in this condition. His mind is too much in tatters.

“…I’m fine.”

It’s small, hoarse, and barely above a whisper, but Playmaker finally speaks, much to their surprise. It’s the first time he’s spoken since Kusanagi vanished into particles of blue light and Ryoken’s grip on his hand stays firm as Playmaker tries to turn away from the both of them.

“No. You’re not.” Ryoken insists and is almost relieved to see a spark of defiance flare up in Playmaker’s eyes. “The A.I. has…a point. Right now you can’t fight anyone. Our logout function doesn’t seem to work here, but at the least, take a rest.”

Playmaker stubbornly shakes his head a little and his jaw sets. He tries to pull his hand out of Revolver’s, but Ryoken won’t let him go.

“I can still fight.” he tries to insist, but Ryoken can feel the slight tremor through his hand and knows it’s a lie. “I can still–”

“You’re shaking.” he points out and feels a bit slimy for doing so. “You need rest, not combat.”

Playmaker stares up at him instead of replying. It’s painful to hold eye contact with him because Ryoken knows denying him is only hurting him further, but he just can’t let him walk straight to his death like this. Soulburner would have done the same. Kusanagi as well, had he not betrayed Yusaku’s trust.

“I know he’s a jerk, but please listen to him?” the Ignis offers. Its left the duel disk at some point and is now hovering near Playmaker’s shoulder. “You’re my kid, you know? I never wanted anything bad to happen to you…”

“We don’t need your input, Ignis.”

“My name is Ai!”

Revolver’s fierce glare pins the A.I. in place and despite the slight tremor in its body, it remains stubbornly at Playmaker’s shoulder with a glare of its own.

“You–”

“He’s always been the goal.” Playmaker interrupts them in a quiet voice, but his tone wavers in a way that makes Ryoken’s heart ache. His face is still startlingly neutral, but cracks are beginning to form and something akin to panic settles in Ryoken’s chest. “From the start, it’s always been…always been about Jin. Kusanagi-sa… O…of course he would make that choice. It’s Jin and I…I’m not–”

_I’m not important_  goes unsaid, but Ryoken can hear it clear as day and boiling anger simmers underneath his skin. When they find the Light Ignis, he would personally tear it apart piece by piece. That awful A.I. should have never–

Playmaker bites down on his tongue, eyes filling up with tears and shoulders hunching as he struggles not to let them fall. The sight has both he and the Dark Ignis wide-eyed.

The Dark Ignis tentatively holds out a hand towards Playmaker’s face, but doesn’t try to move any closer. “I-I know I said to cry, but now that you’re actually doing it, I feel like I just punched a kitten.”

Revolver’s eyes roll even as he places a hand on Playmaker’s shaking shoulder. “Do you always have to make jokes? Especially  _now_?”

“It’s a coping mechanism!” the Dark Ignis defends.

Ryoken sighs, makes a decision that might come back to bite him later, and pulls Playmaker into his arms without any warning. Playmaker’s breath hitches as Revolver wraps his arms around his back and settles a hand in his hair. Playmaker stills at this and Ryoken wonders if maybe this was the wrong move, but he has nothing else to offer him right now other than a shoulder to lean on.

“I’m not the right person for this,” he starts, tightening his hold just a little. “And I’m not really that great at giving comforting words, but it’s…it’s okay to cry, if you need to. It’s just us so…”

Playmaker is silent after that, but after a moment or three passes, Ryoken feels arms wrap around his back and hands cling to his shoulders in a return hug. Playmaker buries his face in his shoulder and his body shudders from quiet, hitching sobs. It makes Ryoken’s heart ache all the more and his lips twist into a deep frown, but the Dark Ignis gives him a thumbs up in approval regardless before moving out of his sight.

It’s an odd feeling knowing they’re right in the middle of enemy territory having such a private moment together like this, but Playmaker squeezing him as a sign of thanks makes the thought of danger briefly flee from his mind and something like a smile softens his expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you don't know what P.T. is, it was a free demo for an upcoming new Silent Hill game that got cancelled. You can't play it anymore unfortunately, but there's plenty of Let's Plays out there for it. The whole idea of the reference was that the maze Revolver and Playmaker were trapped in was the same identical hallway that gradually changed after every loop, which was P.T.'s whole shtick. I like to think Ai knows far more about pop culture and the internet community and trends than Yusaku probably cares for. haha


	8. Ryoken/Yusaku: Ryoken is sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “I’m your husband. It’s my job.” 
> 
> Ryoken overworks himself and comes down with a fever. It's up to Yusaku to get him well again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is inspired by an episode of Kaguya-sama: Love is War. I was amused by the thought of Ryoken acting in such a way so I thought I'd just be trashy and write it. haha

“I knew this would happen…” Yusaku muses to himself with a slow shake of his head. The digital thermometer in his hands glares up at him in bright, damning red numbers. It’s at roughly 40°C and possibly rising. No wonder Ryoken was stumbling around and acting so strange before. “You have a pretty high fever.”

Earlier, Yusaku caught Ryoken dozing at the kitchen table, breakfast completely abandoned and breathing labored. His skin had felt hot to the touch and when Yusaku was finally able to shake him awake, his excuse for falling asleep had been complete and utter nonsense. He clung to Yusaku’s arm, babbled something about having tea with Ai, and kept forgetting where he was. Fearing the worst, Yusaku dragged him back to bed, fished out a thermometer from the medicine cabinet, and now here they are, Ryoken in a fever-induced daze and Yusaku sitting by his side quietly chastising him for overworking himself.

“Congrats on being sick.” Yusaku continues and looks down at Ryoken’s pitiful state. “I’ll have to tell the tournament officials you’re too sick to participate now. Good job.”

Ryoken’s cheeks are flushed a deep red and his pretty eyes are glazed over, completely unfocused even as he’s staring up at Yusaku from his cocoon of blankets. He claims to be cold, but his skin is on fire and no matter how many times Yusaku tries to remove them, Ryoken refuses to give up a single blanket layer.

“Nnnnoo, ‘m fine.” Ryoken stubbornly insists, sounding anything but. His words slur together and his vocal tone is a weak mess. It alternates in pitch, but tends to stick towards the higher end. It’s kind of amusing considering how deep his voice is otherwise. “Jus’ cold.”

Yusaku flips the thermometer around and points at the digital screen. “You’re literally hot enough to qualify as a heater.”

Ryoken just groans up at him and swats the device out of Yusaku’s hands. It falls between them, face up, as if to remind them both of how not okay Ryoken is at the moment.

“Nnnnoooo… ’m fiiiine.” Ryoken whines, as if that’s good enough to convince Yusaku. “I can sshh…sh..still? …nn…”

Yusaku quietly picks the thermometer back up and raises his eyebrows at him.

“Duel in the charity tournament?” he offers and then shakes his head. “Not in this state. You can’t even stand up straight.”

Ryoken just stares up at him in a daze as he tries to process this, mind moving much more slowly than usual. Then eventually, despite the fever clouding his mind and painting his cheeks red, his face lights up and he pushes himself up into a sitting position all of a sudden.

“I have a duel! We do! Tag duel!” he says somewhat excitedly and then whatever energy reserve he pulled that burst of coherency out of completely drains out of him in an instant. He wobbles and falls back against his pillows like a lazy, sluggish cat. “Yusa..ahh…Yusaku, there’sss people there? I don’ want oth…other people.”

Yusaku tries very hard to force down the smile his lips are threatening to slip into, but it’s hard. Seeing Ryoken like this is really, really hard.

“Mmhm.” he hums in reply.

Ryoken’s eyes close and he curls onto his side, burying himself into his pillows like they’re plush toys. Which is a good sign, all things considered. Maybe he’ll actually go to sleep and rest like he should instead of wandering around in a feverish daze. Even while sick, he pushes himself too hard…

“Is it lots of p…people?”

The corners of Yusaku’s lips are twitching. He doesn’t think he’s ever had to fight this hard to maintain a neutral expression before in his life, but Ryoken is making his life incredibly difficult at the moment.

“Mmhm.” he hums yet again, not quite trusting his words just yet.

Ryoken’s eyes open again and Yusaku isn’t sure what he’s staring at now, but he’s rather focused on it. The stare is sort of off to the side, near Yusaku’s right hip.

“Lotsss of people…” he mumbles and squishes himself further into his pillows. “I don’ want…shhpe…spectators?”

“Mmhm.”

“Lots of people… ’sssaku, does that mean we’re getting married?”

The question comes out of nowhere. Yusaku can’t help the snort that slips out and he covers his mouth with his hand to hide the sudden smile that breaks his perfectly neutral expression. Damn…and he tried so hard to stop it too…

Ryoken pushes himself up onto an elbow and something that very closely resembles a pout makes its way across his lips.

“Mean… I want to marry Yusaku…”

Ryoken’s tone is watery, like he might cry. He sounds legitimately disappointed and Yusaku let’s the hand at his mouth fall, a tiny laugh slipping out when he does. Ryoken’s so delirious that he has no idea what he’s even saying and it’s kind of amusing.

“We’re already married. Look.” Yusaku holds up a hand and shows off a glinting, golden ring decorating his ring finger. He never really takes it off. “You have one, too.”

Ryoken looks a bit awed by that and he sits up again to inspect his own hand. Sure enough, there’s a matching golden ring around his finger and he stares at it in fascination. Yusaku just watches him, amused.

He’s heard rumors about this before, but Yusaku never imagined things would turn out quite like this. Ryoken is just as clingy as Spectre claimed he would be and if he’s being honest, it’s kind of really adorable.

_Ryoken-sama is an absolute baby when he’s sick_ , he remembers a delighted Spectre telling him once as he recounted tales of what it was like to live with the snowy-haired beauty.  _Once, he tore up his room searching for fireworks and I had to distract him with fake ones. He remembered nothing about it the next morning._

Luckily, Ryoken hasn’t started asking for fireworks. Yusaku doesn’t know what he’d do if he did because they certainly don’t have any.

“Married…” Ryoken mumbles.

For a moment, he almost looks more coherent, but Yusaku knows better. Ryoken needs medicine in his system and then the tournament committee really needs to know he won’t be showing up in VR anytime soon. This very well might disqualify him from the tournament, but there’s nothing for it. Ryoken can barely speak sensibly. Yusaku can’t see his dueling being any better.

Yusaku moves to stand, thermometer still in hand. “I’m going to grab some medicine. Stay right here and don’t mo– _hey!_ ”

Yusaku barely has a chance to make it to his feet when he’s yanked back into a clingy, possessive hold.

“N..no!” Ryoken’s arms wrap around Yusaku’s waist and he buries his face into the crook of Yusaku’s neck. “We’re supposed to…to do the honey thing! Is important…”

Honey thing?

Ryoken’s hold is weak enough that Yusaku could break out of it, if he wanted, but instead he stills and rubs a hand atop Ryoken’s head in a little pet to reassure him. He really needs to get Ryoken that medicine before his fever has a chance to get worse.

“I’m your husband. It’s my job to take care of you when you’re sick.” he tries to tell him. “I’m coming right back so calm down.”

Ryoken shakes his head and Yusaku squirms a little because his hair tickles. “Nooo… We have to do…nnn do the honey thing…”

Yusaku frowns. “Ryoken, you’re not making any sens–”

“ _Honey thing_.”

Ryoken flops back onto the bed and drags Yusaku down with him. His hold tightens when Yusaku tries to struggle.

“Let me go.”

“N-no, I don’ want a divorce!”

Yusaku’s expression turns confused and he stares up at his stupid, delirious husband, voice coming out a bit exasperated.

“We’re not–Ryoken, I’m just getting you medicine to bring down your fever.  _That’s all._  We’ll still be married.”

Ryoken blinks a couple of times and lets his grip loosen. “Really?

“Really.” Yusaku assures and feels like he may regret his next statement but continues on with it anyway. “We can even do the honey thing just like want, but medicine first.”

It takes a moment, but Ryoken’s eyes slowly start to droop as his body relaxes. “Mm…’saku come back?”

“Yes. I’ll come back.”

This seems to satisfy him and he nods and snuggles into his pillows once again.

“Nn...‘kay.”

Yusaku sighs, relieved. For a moment, he was worried he’d be stuck until Ryoken’s fever finally pulled him into unconsciousness, but he managed to soothe Ryoken’s silly fever-induced fears rather quickly.

_‘He’s going to feel so embarrassed about all this later.’_  Yusaku thinks as he begins to pull himself out of Ryoken’s arms.  _‘Not that he’ll remember anything.’_

Before he can manage to make it back to the edge of the bed, Ryoken’s instantly alert once more and Yusaku is pulled back into a hot body. The heat pouring off Ryoken is enough to make Yusaku sweat and he’s glad his day’s attire is light.

Yusaku pushes at his chest, eyebrows knit. “Let me up so I can get the medicine.”

Ryoken pouts and his glazed eyes narrow in defiance. “No.”

Yusaku’s lips thin. He wishes Spectre told him more about how to handle Ryoken when he was sick like this. He can really use some advice.

“Le’s sleep together.” Ryoken continues and snuggles into him. “Yusaku is warm and soft like…nn like a kitten. I like kittens.”

Despite his slight annoyance, another small laugh finds its way past Yusaku’s lips.

For fuck’s sake…

“ _Ryoken_.”


	9. Miyu/Aoi: eloping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Can I do your hair?”
> 
> Aoi and Miyu share a moment in the countryside alone together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I don't actually use the sentence prompt for this one, but it's there in the sense of hair touching.

The sky outside the city is a quiet, tranquil ocean painted in baby blues and voluminous whites. The sun is a beacon of fresh paint and shines rays of golden warmth down on the grassy field beneath her, warming her bare legs and making messy tresses of rosy taupe glow like an angel’s wings. It’s almost too perfect to be real and Aoi wonders, briefly, if perhaps it isn’t. She’s used to digital overlays, tall buildings scraping against the sky, and D-Boarders swimming in the digital current. In the city, it’s easy to miss the way the sky shifts and changes with the movement of the sun, but out here, in the countryside, the sky goes on and on, forever and ever. It’s like a living painting, shifting and moving with the thrum of life and breathing the scent of freedom into her lungs. She doesn’t quite know what else to do but stare up through the tree branches in quiet awe, shoulders relaxed against the tree bark as all her worries are carried away into the breeze.

“Told you skipping was a good idea~” comes a sleepy voice below her and Aoi’s lips slip into a tiny smile.

Aside from the sleepy voice, the only other sounds that touch her ears is the gentle rustling of the canopy of leaves above her as the wind brushes past, carefully, like nature itself fears breaking their serenity to be an unforgivable sin. It’s peaceful out here in a way an artificial landscape could never be and Aoi is glad for it, happy the chance to run away together for a day was presented to her. There’s no machinery, no duelists, no Link VRAINS, no school. Just her and the warm weight settled into her lap as Miyu sighs dreamily, melting like gooey taffy as Aoi runs fingers through her soft hair.

“My brother will have a fit if he finds out.” she points out but doesn’t particularly feel worried about it. Her eyes leave the sky and turn down to the head in her lap. “And when he finds out  _you’re_ to blame…”

He’ll probably huff, shake his head, and state his disappointment for her skipping classes, but ultimately would find amusement in it. It’s not like this is the first time Aoi’s ever skipped class and while Akira was always unhappy about it, somehow, she thinks he’d be happy she’s skipping for normal teenager reasons rather than to help fight a war.

Plus, he does actually like Miyu. Miyu is very likable, after all.

“ _Psh_. He likes me.” Miyu says with an air of sleepy confidence and snuggles further into Aoi’s lap, arms loosely winding around Aoi’s hips in a greedy hug. “‘Sides, we can always just live together if it’s such a problem. Get an apartment together and a cat and a plant and, you know…uh.”

Miyu takes a moment to hum in uncertainty and scrunches up her nose in thought. It’s a cute expression and Aoi can feel her smile growing the longer she watches Miyu think. She’s beautiful like this, she can’t help but muse to herself, all sprawled across the grass and Aoi’s legs like a great dragon protecting its treasure horde. It makes a feeling spread throughout her body and it’s something good and warm and sweet like fresh honey.

Happiness, she decides. This warmth in her chest and flutter in her heart must be what true happiness feels like. Miyu is happiness and happiness is Miyu. It makes sense and she wishes, for just a moment, that time would stand still and they could stay like this, under this tree with the sun high in the sky, forever and ever.

“Nn…what’s the word? Starts with an e…”

Miyu’s thinking out loud now and Aoi takes a moment to ponder over it herself. Eventually, a word Miyu has said before comes to mind. So she voices it, a bit hesitant.

“Elope?”

Miyu’s eyes brighten with a glossy shimmer of joy. “That’s the word!”

Miyu grins and Aoi can’t help the small titter that leaves her at it.

“We’ll elope!” Miyu continues. “There’s plenty of cities we could go to… I heard Maiami City is a pretty great place to live and there’s this place called Heartland that’s super nice. And there’s always Tokyo!”

“I think we can just live together normally without eloping.” Aoi says, amused. “You said it yourself, my brother likes you and he’s fine with us being together.”

Miyu pouts just a little. “True, true…but eloping is more fun~ So let’s just go buy a plant and elope. To Tokyo.”

“We can’t elope and Tokyo is too far away.”

“Maiami City then.”

“ _Miyu_.”

Miyu gives a dramatic sigh before sluggishly untangling herself from around Aoi and sitting up, cheeks puffing as she pouts. She takes a moment to stretch herself out before letting out a low whine.

“Nnn,  _fiiiine_.” she concedes but then turns suddenly with a cheeky grin. “That just means I’ll have to do things properly and buy you a ring for real this time~”

Aoi’s cheeks flush as Miyu leans in and presses a kiss to her cheek, cat-like expression smug.

“ _Then_ we can go to Tokyo~”

“We’re not going to Tokyo.”

“Aw…”


	10. Ryoken/Yusaku: naked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “It’s just you and me tonight. I was thinking we could have a little fun.” and “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”
> 
> Ryoken and Yusaku play around with each other a little.

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Yusaku moves his bare shoulders in a light shrug. His fingers don’t stop their tirade against his laptop keys, but his eyes do flicker Ryoken’s way. He regards Ryoken carefully, head tilting slightly.

“Not particularly.” he says and Ryoken’s eyebrows raise at that. Yusaku just doesn’t do things for no reason. “Just had a shower and your sheets feel nice. I didn’t feel like putting clothes back on.”

Ryoken stares, mouth slipping open just a little. Is he…being serious?

“You’re not  _really_ trying to blame this on laziness, are you?”

There’s a twinkle in Yusaku’s eye. “Yes.”

Ryoken closes his eyes with a sigh and shakes his head. He certainly doesn’t believe a word of it, but doesn’t want to press him about it. It’s not like this is an unwelcome sight, in any case. Yusaku’s skin still glistens slightly from that shower he had and when Ryoken shuts the bedroom door and moves to join Yusaku on the bed, he can smell the scent of his favorite body wash clinging to Yusaku’s skin. It’s inviting and he can’t help but stare hungrily as few droplets of water slip from Yusaku’s hair and trickle down his chest.

“Call go okay?” Yusaku asks and Ryoken snaps out of his trace when a quick kiss is pressed to the corner of his mouth. “You were gone for a while.”

Yusaku goes back to his typing and Ryoken leans over to see what he’s working on. He recognizes the Ignis algorithm right away and wonders, briefly, if this has something to do with that event Ai wouldn’t shut up about.

“I suppose.” he says and leans in a bit closer. The flowery scent coming from Yusaku’s still damp skin is intoxicating and he can’t help pressing a kiss of his own to Yusaku’s jaw. “It was more aggravating than anything else, honestly. I really hate dealing with SOL sometimes.”

“Mm.” Yusaku hums appreciatively and leans into Ryoken’s touch. “You did volunteer to help with that program.”

“And I regret the decision immensely.” he replies, sighing heavily. He wraps his arms around Yusaku’s waist and buries his face into Yusaku’s neck. “They’re idiots. I want to go back to being a mean cyber-terrorist that does things out of spite.”

Yusaku huffs in amusement at his little whine and does a bit more typing before he closes the laptop altogether and sets it aside. Now that his hands are free, he runs his fingers through Ryoken’s hair and offers his back a little pat.

“At least you get something out of it in return.”

And Ryoken supposes that’s true. SOL is offering him the entirety of the Lost Incident files and the subsequent experiments they ran because of it on a silver platter, courtesy of their new CEO, Zaizen Akira (who is honestly the best thing to ever happen to such an otherwise trash corporation). And he plans to burn it all in a barrel of gasoline so they can never again be used to hurt the victims or anyone else ever again. It’s not something he’s told the others yet, but Yusaku seems to think they should have a little party for it, let everyone involved watch their shared past go up in flames and smoke. It’d be cathartic, in a way.

“I guess.” he mumbles and then pulls back a bit so he can grab Yusaku’s chin. “At least I have you for stress relief.”

He pulls Yusaku in for a kiss and Yusaku happily returns it. His arms wrap around Ryoken’s neck and they press against each other, both eager to be closer as hands wander and tongues touch. Yusaku’s fingers pull at Ryoken’s hair and Ryoken makes a little appreciative noise as he drags them both down onto the bed.

“So fess up.” he starts when they part for air. Yusaku is underneath him now and he darts in for a quick peck on his lips. “What’s the  _real_ reason you’re naked?”

Like this, Yusaku can’t hide the slight blush that creeps across his cheeks. “I never lied about the lazy part, but, well…”

Yusaku’s hands slip around Ryoken’s shoulders and travel down his chest. He tugs at Ryoken’s blazer a bit.

“It’s just you and me tonight.” he continues and the soft, hesitant way he says it sends a burning heat throughout Ryoken’s body. His eyes glaze over and he’s leaning in to press kisses against Yusaku’s cheeks and jawline and trailing them down his neck before Yusaku even continues speaking. “I w…was thinking we could have a little fun.”

Ryoken moves up to Yusaku’s lips and they share another heated kiss before Ryoken interjects with a teasing: “Like what~?”

“Cuddling.”

Somewhere in the distance, Ryoken can hear a record screeching to a halt.

“E…excuse me?”

Yusaku’s eyes brighten and he grabs hold of Ryoken’s blazer, determination shining in his green gaze.

“I’ve heard that presenting yourself to your lover without any clothes is key to initiating cuddles.” Yusaku continues. He sounds so matter-of-fact and technical that it has Ryoken wishing death on whoever told him this. “So take yours off now. That’s how it works, right?”

Ryoken looks exasperated. “You’re, you’re teasing me, aren’t you. You just want me to strip.”

Yusaku offers up a little shrug. “Maybe, but I am serious about those cuddles.”

Ryoken sighs and hangs his head a little. In apology, Yusaku runs fingers through his hair again and leans up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Mm, the kissing part is nice though.” Yusaku admits and drags Ryoken back down. “I like the way you touch me.”

Yusaku suddenly rolls over, switching their positions, and Ryoken finds himself letting out a soft groan when Yusaku’s hips roll over his. His hands grab hold of Yusaku’s hips and wander up his backside as they share a heated kiss. Yusaku tastes of the bland, flavorless coffee he so loves to consume, but Ryoken doesn’t mind it. Not really. He has a sweet tooth, he’s more than willing to admit, but with Yusaku’s tongue in his mouth and their lips and teeth and fingers grazing over each other like they’re starving for each other’s touch, he hardly notices the taste. It’s especially hard to concentrate on something so trivial anyway with Yusaku’s wandering hands skirting the hem of his slacks and toying with the zipper and buttons. Ryoken lets his hands wander along Yusaku’s sides and tickle at his spine in return, causing him to shiver and twitch and earn a few nips at his bottom lip in retaliation. They break for air when Yusaku finally manages to undo his slacks’ buttons and Ryoken darts out to catch both his wandering hands before they can slip underneath his underwear. Yusaku gives him a dejected look for it and it makes Ryoken’s lips twitch upward in an amused smirk.

“I thought you wanted to cuddle, not fondle, Fujiki-kun~” he teases, drawling out the honorific he never uses just for the fun of it and Yusaku’s eyes narrow down at him dangerously. “If that’s what you wanted all along, you should have just– _nhh_!”

Yusaku takes a dive, sinks his teeth right into the crook of Ryoken’s neck, and Ryoken lets out a little distressed noise because of it and  _squirms_. Not because it hurts. Yusaku’s not that type of lover. His bite, while sudden and a bit forceful, barely even pinches. The nips are gentle but are hard enough to leave little hickies later on and are  _incessant_ and they  _tickle_ and Ryoken  _can’t stand it_ and  _damn him_  Yusaku  _knows_ this.

“St–!!”

A little giggly breath escapes before he can clamp down on it and he bites down on his bottom lip, struggling not to give Yusaku the satisfaction of a victory, but he can feel the satisfied smirk creeping across Yusaku’s lips and decides to retaliate. His fingers press into Yusaku’s sides, earning a light snort, and then everything goes downhill in the form of a tickle fight that neither one really win or lose. They just end up collapsed against each other, limbs like jelly, silly grins on their faces, and eyes teary from laughter.

“That’s cheating.” Yusaku complains, a bit breathless and he manages to force a glare. It’s mostly ruined by the smile still on his lips and the heat flushing his cheeks. “You still have all your clothes on. That’s not fair.”

“You started it.” comes Ryoken’s reply, something of a pout forming on his lips. A hand rubs at his neck, along the places Yusaku bit, and he shivers a little. “Sneak attacking me like that… Who’s the real cheater here?”

Yusaku’s amazing ability to become deadpan at the drop of a hat reigns supreme as his expression becomes unreadable. Even still, there’s a faint smugness in his voice that has Ryoken exasperated.

“You deserved it.”

Ryoken huffs. “Just come here.”

He reaches out to pull Yusaku to his chest and wraps his devious little boyfriend up into his arms. He has half a mind to take advantage of the situation and get back at him again, but settles for pressing a fond kiss against his forehead instead. Another day, perhaps. In response, Yusaku snuggles up to him and lets out a content sigh, pleased to finally be receiving those cuddles he set out to acquire from the start.


	11. Takeru/Ryoken: babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 42\. “For the hundredth time, I’m not your babysitter.” 
> 
> Soulburner and Revolver have to babysit a tiny Playmaker, but aren't exactly getting along with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is much shorter than my usual lengths and it's real stupid but eyyy

“For the hundredth time, I’m not your babysitter.” Revolver says, weary and exasperated with the whole ordeal. He glances down at the bundle in his arms and taps at little Playmaker’s nose, earning a childish squeal and happily flailing fists in return. He has to try extra hard not to dissolve into cooing on the spot. “If anything, I’m  _his_. Find your own way out. You have an A.I., don’t you? Use it.”

Said A.I. has been working with Playmaker’s to provide the little guy with endless hours of entertainment while simultaneously running scans on Playmaker’s code to see if the de-aging could be reversed. As of yet, none of them have been able to confirm what effect this has had on Yusaku in the real world and both he and Revolver are hesitant to attempt a logout with him in such a state.

But so far, working with the sassy bitch has made Soulburner nothing but angry. Plus, why does he get to hog Playmaker all to himself like that? Not sharing is  _rude_.

Soulburner grits his teeth and clenches his hands into fists. “ _You’re_ the one that brought us here in the first place! Don’t be such a bastard!”

Revolver gaps a little in surprise and quickly presses little Playmaker’s head to his chest, making sure to keep the young one’s ears covered.

“ _Language_.”

“Wha–!” Soulburner splutters, eyes going wide and mouth falling open in a mild panic. His gaze switches from Revolver to the baby being protectively held in the other’s arms and he deflates a little. Sheepishly, he offers the baby a nervous smile. “Uh…don’t repeat that, ‘kay?”

Playmaker pauses in his delighted, squealy babbling and stares up at Soulburner innocently. He blinks, not understanding the situation, and makes a small, breathy sound to portray this.

“Bah?”

It sounds suspiciously like he’s trying to copy the word Soulburner used and that makes Revolver glare up at the other duelist in distaste. 

“If his first word ends up being an expletive, I’m telling Kusanagi-san.”


End file.
